well; but muft the picture therefore be his, and has no other man that blemish?

Could there be a more melancholy instance how much the taste of the public is vitiated, and turns the most falutary and feasonable phyfic into poison, than if amidst the blaze of a thousand bright qualities in a great man, they fhould only remark there is a fhadow about him; as what eminence is without? I am confident the author was incapable of imputing any fuch to one, whose whole life (to use his own expreffion in print of him) is a continued feries of good and generous actions.

I know no man who would be more concerned, if he gave the leaft pain or offence to any innocent perfon; and none who would be lefs concerned, if the fatire were challenged by any one at whom he would really aim at. If ever that happens, I dare engage he will own it, with all the freedom of one whofe cenfures are juft, and who fets his name to them.

VOL. VIII.

LET

LETTER XXVI.

To the Earl of BURLINGTON.

MY LORD,

March 7, 1731.

HE clamour rais'd about my Epistle to

TH

you could not give me so much pain, as I receiv'd 'pleasure in feeing the general zeal of the world in the cause of a Great man who is beneficent, and the particular warmth of your Lordship in that of a private man who is inno

cent.

It was not the Poem that deferv'd this from you; for as I had the honour to be your friend, I could not treat you quite like a Poet: but fure the writer deferv'd more candour, even from those who knew him not, than to promote a report, which in regard to that noble person, was impertinent; in regard to me, villainous. Yet I had no great caufe to wonder, that a character belonging to twenty fhould be applied to one; fince, by that means, nineteen would efcape the ridicule.

I was too well content with my knowledge of that noble perfon's opinion in this affair, to trouble the public about it. But fince Malice and Mistake are fo long a dying, I have takenthe opportunity of a third edition to declare his belief, not only of my innocence, but of their

malignity;

malignity; of the former of which my own heart is as conscious, as, I fear, fome of theirs must be of the latter. His humanity feels a concern for the Injury done to me, while his greatness of mind can bear with indifference the infult offered to himself a.

However, my Lord, I own, that critics of this fort can intimidate me, nay half incline me to write no more: That would be making the Town a compliment which I think, it deferves; and which fome, I am fure, would take very kindly. This way of Satire is dangerous, as long as flander rais'd by fools of the lowest rank, can find any countenance from those of a higher. Even from the conduct fhewn on this occafion, I have learnt there are fome who would rather be wicked than ridiculous; and therefore it may be fafer to attack Vices than Follies. I will therefore leave my betters in the quiet poffeffion of their Idols, their Groves, and their Highplaces; and change my fubject from their pride to their meannefs, from their vanities to their miferies; and, as the only certain way to avoid mifconftructions, to leffen offence, and not to multiply ill natured applications, I may proba

* Alludes to the letter the Duke of Ch* wrote to Mr. Pope on this occafion. P.

bly, in my next, make use of real names instead

of fictitious ones.

I am,

My Lord,

Your most Affectionate, &c.

I

LETTER XXVII a.

Cirencester.

T is a true faying, that misfortunes alone prove one's friendships; they fhow us not only that of other people for us, but our own for them. We hardly know ourselves any otherwise. I feel my being forced to this Bath journey as a misfortune; and to follow my own welfare preferably to thofe I love, is indeed a new thing to me: my health has not usually got the better of my tenderneffes and affections. I fet out with a heavy heart, wishing I had done this thing the laft feafon: for every day I defer it, the more I am in danger of that accident which I dread the most, my Mother's death (especially should it happen while I am away.) And another Reflection pains me, that I have never, fince I knew you, been fo long separated from you, as I now muft be. Methinks we live to be more and more ftrangers, and every year

a To Mrs. B.

teaches

teaches you to live without me: This abfence may, I fear, make my return less welcome and

less wanted to you, than once it seem'd, even after but a fortnight. Time ought not in reafon to diminish friendship, when it confirms the truth of it by experience.

The journey has a good deal disordered me, notwithstanding my refting place at Lord Bathurft's. My Lord is too much for me, he walks, and is in fpirits all day long; I rejoice to fee him fo. It is a right diftinction, that I am happier in feeing my friends fo many degrees above me, be it in fortune, health, or pleasures, than I can be in fharing either with them: for in these fort of enjoyments I cannot keep pace with them, any more than I can walk with a tronger man. I wonder to find I am a companion for none but old men, and forget that I am not a young fellow myfelf. The worst is, that reading and writing, which I have still the greatest relish for, are growing painful to my eyes. But if I can preferve the good opinion of one or two friends, to fuch a degree, as to have, their indulgence to my weakneffes, I will not, complain of life: And if I could live to see you. confult your eafe and quiet, by becoming inde-. pendent on those who will never help you to either, I doubt not of finding the latter part of my life pleasanter than the former, or present.